


Sling

by paragraph (ebcdic)



Category: My Chemical Romance, The Used
Genre: Angst, Blood Kink, Confessions, Derogatory Language, Drinking, Fist Fights, M/M, Minor Injuries, Possibly Unrequited Love, Smoking, Threats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-04 00:05:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12759042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebcdic/pseuds/paragraph
Summary: "I have provided good will and friendship. Now you owe me."Gerard snorted. "That's not exactly how it works, you know."





	Sling

"I have decided." Bert paused and took a drag on his cigarette. Gerard waited for him to finish the thought as he took a slug from the bottle of Peach Stoli conveniently provided by Bert a half hour earlier. 

"I have decided," Bert repeated and then seemed to hesitate. "That you owe me."

Gerard blinked. "For the vodka?"

Bert tilted his head as if he hadn't considered that. "Yes. But that's not all."

"Hmm," Gerard murmured. He wasn't sure what Bert was getting at or if he should even care.

"I have provided good will and friendship. Now you owe me."

Gerard snorted. "That's not exactly how it works, you know."

"Maybe not for you."

"What if I don't accept either of those things?"

Bert tossed his cigarette away. He gestured for Gerard to hand over the vodka. With a shrug, Gerard passed it to him. Bert drained the remainder of the bottle and then wiped his hand across his mouth. His eyes flashed, burning even brighter than they usually did. That was Gerard's only warning.

With a hard strike, Bert smashed the bottle against the side of the tour bus they were leaning against. Gerard involuntarily took a step away. Bert pursued him. 

"Then I guess you get this."

"Fuck, Bert. Knock it off," Gerard said, hoping that Bert was just messing around.

"You think I'm kidding?"

Bert's eyes flashed again. Gerard inched along the bus toward the door. 

"Yeah. You may be crazy but you aren't stupid."

In one quick motion, Bert shoved Gerard against the side of the bus. He pressed the broken end of the bottle to Gerard's throat. Gerard held his breath, not even daring to swallow the saliva building up in his mouth.

"Just remember," Bert said quietly as his eyes went dark.

Gerard waited, but Bert didn't say anything else. The hanging sentence bothered Gerard and he wanted to ask, remember what? He didn't dare with Bert still pressing the bottle to his neck. Bert pushed it closer and Gerard felt the glass nick his throat. He bit his lip, his breath coming in shallow near gasps. 

After a long moment of silence, Bert dropped the bottle to the ground. Gerard didn't relax even with the most pressing threat gone. He flinched as Bert leaned in closer, expecting the worst. When Bert's head dipped, Gerard let out a soft noise of surprise that turned into a whimper when Bert's tongue flicked out at the small wound. 

His fingers tried to grip the side of the bus, his nails scraping futilely at the metal as Bert trailed small kisses up to his ear. He wasn't sure what to think of any of this. Bert was completely unpredictable. While this was one of his most charming qualities, it often proved to be hazardous to one's health. Gerard was fairly sure that this was all some huge joke and if he didn’t do something to defend himself, Bert would laugh at him for ages. 

He let go of the side of the bus and brought his hands up to shove Bert away. Bert stumbled back a few steps and then came rushing back at Gerard. Gerard's first instinct was to move out of the way, but when Bert snarled at him, he went with his second, which was to punch Bert. This was not something he did on a regular basis. He and Mikey hadn't thrown a punch at each other since they were kids and Gerard had stopped having to defend himself in the face of bullies a long time ago. So, he wasn't quite sure of what he was doing. It was strangely hard to throw a punch at Bert, all things considered. He didn't put as much power behind it as he could have. If anything, the blow to his jaw seemed to fuel the fire of whatever had possessed Bert to start this in the first place.

Bert struck his fist out, hitting Gerard twice as hard in the jaw. As his ears rang, Gerard tried to keep himself from slumping against the side of the bus to the ground. He was pretty sure that would be a mistake. His eyes stayed on Bert's. Bert stood there, his chest heaving. 

"Fucking fucker. Motherfucker. Motherfucking cunt," Bert swore, almost rambling on with his repetition of words.

Figuring that this would be the best time to make an exit, Gerard started walking away. His eyes lingered on Bert, making sure that he didn't move after him. 

"Don't walk away from me."

The soft plea startled Gerard and he paused near the bumper of the bus. "What?"

"I hate you, you know that?" Bert scratched the back of his head. "No, I hate what you do to me. That's it."

Bert seemed to be talking to himself. Gerard waited even though he wasn't sure why. After all, Bert had just attacked him. He should run. He should run and call security. That would be the most logical thing to do. That's what any sane person would do.

Instead, Gerard took a hesitant step toward Bert. "What do you mean?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Bert sighed heavily.

"Umm, no," Gerard answered, because it wasn't. He replayed what he remembered of their conversation that night and nothing stood out.

"Aww, fuck." Bert kicked at the ground and then stared at Gerard's jaw. "Just forget it. Go put some ice on that or whatthefuckever."

"Why don't you come with me?" Gerard asked. Bert looked distraught. Bert never looked distraught. 

"Gee, you hit like a fucking girl. I don't need any ice," Bert said as he shook his head and snorted.

Gerard ignored the insult. "Would you just tell me what the fuck all of this was?" 

"I can't." Bert shuffled a few steps closer. "There are no words."

Resisting the urge to throw up his hands in exasperation, Gerard closed the gap between them so they were standing only inches apart. "What is there then?"

Bert met his eyes for a moment and then closed them. "I'm no good at this shit."

The cryptic sentences were driving Gerard insane. Between the pain in his jaw and the dull buzz of the alcohol, he could barely follow the conversation. He just wanted Bert to spit it out already. 

"Yeah, okay." Gerard shook his head. "We'll talk about this in the morning. Or not. Whatever."

He turned to walk away to his band's bus. All he wanted was aspirin and water and maybe sleep. He didn't have the energy for Bert's antics anymore. But, of course, Bert grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Just." Bert rested his head on the back of Gerard's neck. His thumb caressed Gerard's arm. "I've thought about this forever and this isn't how I wanted it to go. It wasn't going to be all flowers and shit. That's just not me. Fuck. I wish I had just spit it out instead of being a pussy about it."

Realization hit Gerard like a ton of bricks. He spun around to face Bert. "You like me."

"Yeah, I mean. How lame, right?" Bert tried to laugh but didn't quite make it. He stared at the ground instead of at Gerard.

"It's not lame," Gerard said softly. His mind raced with questions. Was this real? Did he feel the same way about Bert? He swore that if Bert was fucking with him, he wouldn't hold back this time; he'd knock Bert on his ass.

Bert looked up, but wouldn't meet Gerard's eyes. "I don't even know what I'm saying. We're both fucking smashed."

Gerard shook his head. "I'm not that drunk."

"Yeah," Bert sighed. "Me neither. It sounded good though."

Not sure what to say to that, Gerard kicked at the dirt with his boot. Bert ran a hand through his hair and then stared up at the sky. Gerard considered doing something bold like kissing Bert or telling him that the feeling was mutual. He was afraid of doing any of that though. Eventually, everything would go sour and Bert didn't seem like the type to forgive and forget. It wasn't worth risking the friendship over something that was probably a whim anyway. 

Bert sighed again and turned to walk to his bus. About halfway there, he hesitated for a second, like he was just waiting for Gerard to come after him, spin him around, and kiss him. Gerard took a faltering half-step forward and then stopped himself. He let Bert walk off into the night.


End file.
